He’s not going to like me disturbing his resting spot. It’s possible I can tug the purse out from under the branch without disturbing the boa. Possible, but not likely.
What the hell, nothing ventured, nothing gained. I bring my bamboo stick down slowly until the brush falls back into place. The leather handle of the purse is still visible through the palm fronds and ferns. Like it’s a game of Operation, I slide the stick forward until it just kisses the edge of the loop. A few flicks and I have the handle caught on the end. The bag scratches on the ground but the branch above it doesn’t budge.
“You’ll thank me for this later,” I tell the snake. His tongue comes out in disagreement, but he makes no moves from his resting spot. I inch the purse out one agonizing tug at a time until it’s finally at my feet. I pick it up and flip it over. The bottom is bare. This is the real deal, not the fake we’d mocked up.
The sun’s position indicates I’ve been gone for about forty minutes. That’s too long to leave Ava alone. Sticking the bag under my arm, I hurry back. I find her crouching behind a rock about thirty feet from the entrance.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper, hunkering down by her side.
Her tense muscles relax slightly but she remains alert. “Some guy went into the cave while I was using the facilities.”
“Pissing?”
She frowns but nods her head. Apparently we can be in the jungle but we can’t talk about shitting and pissing.
I reach down and tug on the leather belt she has wrapped around her wrist. Smart girl. Always so smart. Reluctantly she releases the buckle and I take up the knife. We both know I’m better with it but even beyond that I get anxious without a weapon. I hate not having a gun or a bigger blade than one that fits inside my belt. Still, I can gut someone with this.
Placing the bag between us, I tap the top, motioning for Ava to sit down.
“What’s he look like? Native? Other?”
“Other. I think . . . I think it might be Afonso. He had a gun and big knife.” She stretches her hands about three feet apart.
“A fair fight, then.” I tighten the belt around my hand.
“What about that?” She points upward. Sitting on top of the mouth of the cave is a puma and she looks hungry. “If someone is in there, why not just let the cat eat him?”
“Bloodthirsty, I like it.” I nod in approval. “But if we want anything on him, like his gun or his knife, the puma might take it into the tree with her and then we have to kill the puma. We don’t want to do that.”
“No, no.” She looks horrified. “No killing the puma.”
I don’t tell her that it’s more likely the puma kills us than we kill the puma with my three-inch blade and a handbag.
First things first. Afonso and the puma can wait.
I reach in and pull out the folders.
“How long did you watch me?” she asks as I scan the contents.
“A while.”
“And in hired gun terms, what does that equal?”
“Long enough to know your favorite morning drink is milk and sugar with two drops of coffee. Is that like flavored milk?”
She punches me lightly on the arm.
The folders reveal nothing. It is just a bunch of emails and transcriptions of phone calls. It’s innocuous stuff but I can see that it implies that there’s more and better or more dangerous shit where this came from.
Behind me, the puma shifts. She hears something. We’ll have to think about this later. I flip the folders shut and pull the pupunha fruit from my pocket. The small plum-sized fruits are hard and perfect for throwing. I rise and whip three in quick succession across into the jungle underbrush. A bird flies out and the puma leaps forward to investigate.
As the puma leaves, I take off at a run, ordering Ava to stay by the bag. The resulting noise has the intended effect and Afonso sticks his neck out of the cave. I launch myself forward straight into his chest. He flies back with a thud.
I have the element of surprise on my side and I’m able to knock one weapon out of his hands. The gun goes skittering to the side.
His other hand grips a machete tight. He must have found that in the plane wreckage. One of the businessmen must have been preparing for a jungle jaunt and packed it in his stored luggage. I want it.
A fist hits me in the damaged eye, and my vision blurs enough so that I almost don’t see the blade slicing toward my face.
I kick out blindly and hear a grunt. There’s a crack and then a cry of pain.
I roll to the left and the blade crashes into the dirt.
“Where is it?” Afonso snarls.
I stay low to the ground, crouching as he circles me.